Survival Island: Novelization
by Sketchy Wasteland
Summary: With a resounding crackle, your blimp popped and you fell into the snowy clearing below.
1. Determined

_You are determined._

The moment you crashed into a full-fledged storm, you had already concocted several escape plans. You had been in this situation countless of times before, so you knew exactly what to do. As you pulled on the strings of your blimp, desperately trying to steer it, you managed to snatch the straps of your backpack, the thing that carried your parachute. You strapped it to your back, making sure to tighten it as much as possible. The storm roared and the harsh winds threw you back and forth, almost dislodging you from your basket. Lightning struck down from the dark, angry clouds above, but they thankfully missed you each and every time. You struggled to remain on and you felt your footing slip as snow started to pile inside of your basket.

Suddenly, you heard a loud crack and pop echo through the frosty air. The entire blimp shuddered and started to descend rapidly. You slipped and let go of the basket, slowly lagging behind the blimp as you fell.

The wind blew at your face and tears filled your eyes as the world blurred. You felt raw fear collect in the pits of your stomach and you felt weightless as you careened toward the forest below. As you drew closer to the earth, your blimp moved far away from you, and you felt your fear increase. What would you do without your balloon?

In a moment of clarity, you tugged at the string on your backpack, missing the string three times. A wave of panic washed over you as you missed, your adrenaline spiking. You stuck out your arm a fourth time and finally managed to catch the string between two fingers. You curled your hand into a fist and pulled as hard as you could on the thin string.

The parachute unfolded just in time and you were jerked upward. You felt the chill of the air increase as a sudden gust of wind pushed you toward the trees below. As you went closer and closer to the ground, a branch swung down from a tall tree and pierced through the parachute, barely missing your head. With a hiss, you plummeted to the ground once more before the branches from the rest of the trees broke your fall. You were jerked up and bounced around before slowing to a halt. You felt dizzy from the rough landing and groaned loudly, cradling your head. With your eyes blurred with snow and tears, you glanced up and gazed at your surroundings.

It was picturesque landscape, you were sure of that. The snow fell softly onto the earth, coating it in a thick layer of powder. The moon highlighted the scenery, making the snow reflect a silver light. You sighed, white puffs of air escaping your lips. You swayed slightly on your swing before looking down at the ground. You grimaced slightly at the height. You felt a headache coming on, but the freezing cold kept it away. You shivered and felt your bare hands become numb. You rubbed them together before looking down again.

You had no choice.

With a faint click, you unbuckled your strap and plummeted to the ground. You fell to the freezing snow below and shuddered as your brain was rattled once again.

"Fuck," you muttered under your breath. "That was a rough landing." Your red eyes gazed the landscape once again. Snow, snow, snow, as far as the eye could see. Muddy rocks and trees stuck up from the flawless white. You screwed your eyes shut and shivered heavily as the cold pierced through your clothes. Your entire body was beginning to feel numb.

"S-So cold..." You thought of multiple ways to keep warm. Eating or drinking something hot or even slightly warm would keep you a bit warm and could give you some energy. Moving and doing exercise in general forced your body to heat up, which you decided would be the best thing to do without any supplies. The last and most promising option was making a fire, but the wind was too harsh and the ground was too wet with snow.

You opened your eyes and stood up. Snow fell off of your body like clumps of dirt. You patted yourself down, immediately taking note of the snow already piling onto your shoulders. You reached for your hat and grasped thin air, and you widened your eyes. You looked around wildly before seeing a small hole several feet away from you. You trudged through the snow and scooped up your hat, a twinge of sharp pain snaking through your fingers. You wiped the frozen powder off of the golden eagle plate on your hat. The words "Bronze Dragon" were printed on it. You smiled faintly at the wispy memory rising within you, but you crushed it down as easily as it came.

You can't think about your *past* life.

You have to think about how to stay alive.

You ran as fast as you could through the snow, scanning the ground and the tangled roots of the trees. You felt yourself heat up as you moved around, jumping from rock to rock. When you were in the center of the clearing, you saw something flutter in between the cracks of a rock. You paused and ripped it out. It was a ragged note, and it was wet. You could faintly see some words scrawled on it. You squinted and murmured the words.

" _Don't trust anyone around. Someone shot you down. His name is_ \- nothing. It's too wet to read it. But I thought the lightning brought me down...?" You glanced up at the sky and raised an eyebrow. Now that you thought about it, it was eerily strange that there was lightning in the middle of a snow storm. You shivered, but it wasn't from the cold. Who would shoot you down in the middle of a forest? You knew you had a lot of enemies, but your most viscous enemies had either been pacified by removing their Evil Totems or were just in jail. Only a rare few were still evading prison time, but most of them were too weak to ever attempt to throw you down.

The thought that struck you to the core was the fact that somebody had been in the very situation you were in. Or, perhaps, they _are_ in. They had to have notice you crash. How else would it explain the note being so dry? You shook your head and looked around again, through the long, thick branches of the trees.

"Hello?" You yelled, looking around frantically. "Hello! Anyone out there? I know you're out there! I need help!"

Nothing responded.

You sighed, feeling the chills of winter creep around you again. You started going forward in a light jog, scanning the area with frantic eyes, your nerves on edge. Whoever- or whatever- was out there might be watching you. You kept a keen eye on everything that slightly moved, including the shriveled leaves clinging onto dead branches.

Suddenly, you spotted a flash of red and brown come from a hole in a ground. You broke out into a run and leaped onto the blur of red and brown, pinning down the brown thing. The creature hissed as it dropped the book, narrowed its neon blue eyes, and nipped your hand, leaving a large crimson welt. And, just to add more pain into your life, the creature's heavy tail swung and hit your hand as it fled from you. You gasped and fell back, clutching your hand.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuuuuccck. Stupid ass beaver! You're the one who was carrying the stupid book! Gah... Ouch." You grimaced at your bleeding hand, caressing it slightly. Blood stained your aviator jacket and you felt the urge to gnaw it out. You repressed that temptation and ripped off the red bandana around your neck and wrapped it around your injured hand, exposing your neck to the cold. You tightened it and grimaced at the pain surging through your palm. You shook it off and tentatively picked up the book, flipping it and examining it.

 _Wilderness Survival:_

 _How to Survive_

You gulped on dry air and shuddered from the cold filling you. You concluded that someone was definitely watching you, but refusing to make direct contact with you. Well, at least they bothered to show you how to survive.

"I wish they'd have done more than that..." You murmured. You opened the book and almost dropped it in surprise.

Almost all of the pages _had been ripped out_.

"What? What the hell? Where's all the pages?" You glared at the book and felt your hands tremble at the rage building inside of you.

"What sort of sick joke is this?!" You almost threw the book in sheer frustration, but you grit your teeth and harshly tucked it under your shoulder. Even though it was useless, it was better than having nothing at all.

You walked around, batting away leaves and snow from your face. Frost crept up your boots with every step you took, and the snow started to come in thicker waves. As you kept on moving forward, you jumped down a short ledge and landed on some ice. The ice didn't even budge under your feet. You trudged forward and up a tiny hill until you came upon a tall tree. When you looked up, you spotted a backpack dangling from a tree branch high above the ground. It was blue in color, and it seemed to be torn in various places. And, even though the wind was harsh, it wasn't enough to tear it down. You licked your dry lips and looked at the trees. If you could just climb on of them...

You ran to a pile of rocks and leapt onto them, almost slipping on the slick surface. You waved your arms around to regain your balance, swaying slightly as you squinted at the branches above you. You reached up and grabbed a branch, testing your weight on it. It creaked a bit, but it was able to stand your weight.

You pulled yourself up onto the first branch and hopped from branch to branch. The branches were slick despite their rough bark, but you managed to stay on because of your boots and experience in climbing onto dangerous objects. You jumped higher and higher onto thinner and thinner branches until you came to a branch that you couldn't jump onto. Thankfully, when you looked up, you saw a handle attached to a spring. You crouched down and jumped, grabbing onto the handle and dragging it down to your level. Then, you climbed on it, finally reaching the blue backpack.

You had to be careful. You slowly reached down and tried to free the backpack, but your foot slipped on the icy strap and you almost fell down a painful height. You gritted your teeth and gripped the branch, steadying yourself before trying again.

You reached down slowly and hooked your finger around the button that was keeping the lid closed. You tugged on it, prying the lid from the rest of the backpack. You leaned forward on the tips of your toes to reach into the backpack, scooping the contents out.

You felt the branch groan under your feet and suddenly felt it jolt away from you, a loud crack resounding through the air. You let out a choked gasp of shock as you fell. You careened down for a few seconds before a large branch caught you, knocking the wind out of you as you landed on your stomach. As you gasped for air, you fell once more, into the snow below.

You groaned, clutching your stomach, unable to screech out your pain. You had to lay down there for a while, feeling the cold begin to freeze you alive as you pushed through the agony. You shifted and sat up, shaking the snow out of your hair. You looked around for the stuff you had dropped into the snow, standing up slowly. You shuffled forward, scanning around.

You spotted a hole two feet in front of you. You snatched up the two items in the hole, quirking an eyebrow at both of them. One was a striker and the other was a piece of paper. You unfolded it and discovered it was another note.

" _If you're reading this, then I'm probably d-_ Wet spot, wet spot- _ere are some mittens in a log. Use them to make a fire. I tried to make one, but-_ wet spot, another wet spot- _keeps on hunting me and the only place I can make the fire is in the cave. There's a bear in there, though-_ the writing is smudged- _hid this here just in case. Don't need it yet. Can't write too much. Must run. So hungry. Please help me!_ " You frowned and folded the paper up, tucking it away into the survival book. You fingered the striker in between your two fingers before tucking it away too.

You stepped lightly on the snow, breathing slowly, your eyes peeled for anything useful. If you found something as useful as a striker, there was bound to be more supplies. And, as you scoured the area with your steely gaze, you caught sight of a stump with a hatchet wedged into it. You felt a grin form on your face and you ran toward it, barely skidding to a stop. When you glanced under you, you could spot liquid water rushing barely inches away from your boots. You grimaced at the frost forming on your legs. You thought it was cold now, but, as you looked at the water, you knew that it would become much, _much_ colder if you broke the ice.

You treaded carefully over to the hatchet handle, gripping it with all the force you could muster. You tugged quickly and found yourself falling onto your back. A thin layer of melting ice covered the palms of your hands. You shivered, standing up and stuffing your hands into your pockets.

There was no way you could pry the hatchet out with your bare hands. The handle was too slick and your hands were too stiff from the cold. You needed something to create friction, heat. Something like... gloves...

Taking out the strip of paper, you examined the smudged words carefully. If you assumed that this guy was actually telling the truth, there should be a pair of gloves in a log. You didn't know where the log was, though. You needed to see the complete landscape and the only possible way of doing that was to climb a tree.

Again.

You shivered and glanced up at the trees uneasily. You weren't too keen to scale the trees again, but your survival depended on it and you were determined to survive. So, with slight hesitation, you grabbed the nearest branch and climbed.

When you reached the top, you looked around. The cold, bitter winds batted at you, filling your eyes with tears, but you wiped them off with your sleeve and looked out into the vast landscape. You peered through the thin trunks and searched for logs, only finding one that looked like someone had inhabited it. Even from far away, you could spot gashes and scratches forming together to make the words " _HELP ME_ ". You cringed in sympathy and slid down the trunk, landing with a soft thump. You simply walked to the trunk, surprised when you stood face to bark with it.

The log was certainly taller than you. You peered through the dirt between the roots, searching for the gloves. You couldn't spot anything that stood out to you. You grumbled a bit before climbing up the roots, mud and snow smearing your body. When you finally managed to climb onto the log, you immediately noticed the gaping hole in the bark. With cautious steps, you approached the gap, staring into it.

It was pitch black inside. You felt yourself shudder. You hated the dark. However, you instinctually knew that there was something important in there. And you always followed your instincts, no matter how ridiculous they seemed.

You quickly hopped down and hit solid oak and snow. You momentarily slipped, but managed to regain your balance in time. You shifted around until you were face to face with the darkness. You listened carefully, but no sort of threatening sounds echoed within the log. You stepped forward, your eyes slowly becoming used to the dark. The wind was practically nonexistent inside the wooden cavern. You smirked. You knew it was the perfect place to create a fire.

You started as something crisp crackled under your foot. You halted and stared down at the piece of paper. Unlike the other papers, that one was clean and strangely not wet. You stooped down and picked it up, struggling to read the words in the darkness. You momentarily walked to the hole, the filtered light highlighting the words. The snow, while harsh, did not touch the paper.

" _To produce a fire, one must find a nice, secluded place. One should most likely choose a location with little to no wind to stop the fire forming. However, while tempting at first, DO NOT attempt to create a fire inside a closed area. If too closed off, the smoke created by the fire will cloud the area and may seriously harm the maker. We recommend finding a place without a roof. Not only that, one must also make sure that the ground is dry._ " You frowned. Ah, you thought, more complications.

You stuck the piece of paper into your survival book and skulked back into the shadows, your irritation stifling some of the fear inside of you. You kept on moving forward with your arms outstretched until you brushed the back of the log. It was pure black inside and you could barely see your fingertips in the shadows. Thankfully, you spotted the silhouettes of what appeared to be mittens. You reached forward and snatched them, immediately pleased when your suspicions were confirmed. They were, in fact, mittens. They also appeared to be very new. You examined them with your hands, rolling them around in your palms. They were very soft and fluffy to the touch. They were slightly covered in snow, but not enough to freeze your skin off. You wanted to examine them more, but the cold was seeping into your being and you needed to get moving. You put them on, wrapping the strap around your wrists.

You quickly hefted yourself out of log and into the wind. You shivered heavily as snow battered against the exposed parts of your body. However, you trudged forward, jumping off the log and into the powder below. You paced back to the axe and gripped the handle, feeling extremely satisfied when it gave away and ended up in your palms. You stumbled, but managed to regain your balance. You grinned at the sleek piece of wood. Even though it lacked the blade at the top, it was extremely useful. You swung it as you walked forward.

You stopped yourself after you almost fell off the side of a cliff. Snow careened down into the dark pit below, the textures blurry in the distance. You sucked in a breath of cold air and stepped back. You had been so close to falling to your doom. If you had taken a few more steps, all of the stranger's advice would have been for naught. You felt sudden chilly beads of sweat form on your forehead at the dash of adrenaline the drop had given you. You wiped off the drops and quickly examined the border between ground and air. You could easily see the cliff edges and everything on them from where you were standing. You noticed that a rotting stump had trapped a piece of paper in between its roots, keeping the paper above the snow. It looked like it was mostly dry which you considered to be a blessing.

You walked over to it and tried to tear the paper out. Unfortunately, it looked like more than half was tangled in the roots. You grimaced and slid as much of the axe handle into the tangled mess, pushing down on the handle. It relieved the paper and gave it enough wiggle room to slide out easily. It fluttered out of the stump's grasp and into the snow below, the frost immediately curling around the paper. You tore the handle out of the roots and picked up the torn page. It was slightly wet from the icy powder.

 _"One may never know when one might need to fashion a handmade tool in the wilderness. Stout wooden sticks can be used as levers, to pry and move heavy objects. However, one must be careful when choosing a stick to use. A skinny or flexible stick will most likely snap with too much weight. Pressure-treated lumber works best. A wedge is mostly helpful in a survival situation when used as an axe or hatchet. They can be used to dress wood or capture prey._ "

You raised an eyebrow and scoffed slightly. As if you didn't know that! You rolled your eyes and placed the paper into the shell of a book. You glanced around, unable to find anything else that looked moderately useful on the cliff. You swung around and decided to head back to where you landed. You wanted to make a mental map of the area and, to do that, you must make sure that you don't get lost in the process.

In a few minutes, you managed to get back to where you started. You could spot the snow accumulating on top of the torn parachute, the fabric barely keeping the powder from careening into the forest floor below. As you looked toward the ground, you could see the hole you had made when you fell down. You paced past it and eventually found yourself in a rocky area.

Giant rocks jutted from the earth, snow smothering the top of every rock. The earth was a muddy mess and you instantly knew that you didn't want to jump down into it. A clearing sat in the middle of the pile of rocks. Half of the clearing was consumed by a frozen lake. On the side of the lake, there lied a deep cavern. You could hear thick drops of water drip onto the ground as the fluid froze midair. You were very hesitant to step into the clearing for an obscure reason. You felt your instincts scream at you not to approach, to stay on top of the slippery boulders. Perhaps it was that slight rumbling noise emitting from the cavern or that sickly feeling rising in your stomach as you felt eyes watch you. However, you could spot flint glinting moonlight, the shadows barely skimming over the surface. You immediately perked up, remembering what flint was very useful for; creating fires. If you obtained the flint, you could use that with the striker to make a warm, vital fire. You sighed internally before hopping down into the muddy bank.

With every step you took, you could feel yourself sink deeper and deeper into the mud. It was awfully surprising to you that the mud had not frozen completely. However, the ground was not immune to the snow's effects. It was a muddy, disgusting slush that melted into your boots and soaked through your thin socks. You could feel yourself grow colder and your feet felt like they were on fire. You shivered madly, but kept moving forward until you reached the frozen lake.

You reached out hesitantly and placed your right foot on the ice. You pressed down and almost jumped back when it emitted a loud creak. The ice looked slightly unstable under your feet and you really didn't want to go on it, but there were chunks of flint sitting right on top of the edge, right next to a steep cliff. From the look of it, it was the only flint and you needed it badly.

You tentatively stepped out onto the ice. It shifted terribly under your weight and you cringed as you felt water splash your boots. Long, stringy cracks appeared under you and the ice let out a terrible groan. However, the ice bore your weight and you were able to step forward a couple of other steps without incident. Finally, you reached the flint and, with a quick swipe, gathered it all in the palm of your left hand. The tiny shards of the flint immediately entangled themselves into the fabric of your mittens. Grumbling softly to yourself, you stuffed the shards into your pockets, soaking most of the flint. You winced. Hopefully it would be dry enough to start a fire.

You hugged the walls of the cliff as you edged back toward the shore. Relief flooded you as you reached the shore, sinking once again into the mud. You sighed and glanced back in the cave, mind stirring with thought. The cave looked abandoned, that was for sure. Inside, it was pitch black. You could see a thin beam of light in the distance of the cave, illuminating something. You narrowed your eyes and looked closer, desperate to see what was glowing in the dim light.

Suddenly, you saw it.

A side of the cave was moving, stirring. It was a shifting wall of black that moved quietly at first, but it became apparent when glinting white claws scraped against the stone floor. The wall yawned and turned, its teeth ebony in the dim light. You flinched as its paw came close to the edge of the cave. When staring at the thick-furred limb, you immediately recognized the shaggy black fur.

It was a _black bear_.

Now it made sense why you felt dread whenever you looked inside the cave; your eyes had subconsciously seen the bear moving around in the cramped confines of the cave. You shuddered and stared at the limb. There was no way in Hades you would get close to that thing. But, as you looked out into the cave again, you spotted branches. Dry branches. Fluffy, dry branches that would work perfectly in a fire. You licked your lips. It was an opportunity you couldn't miss.

You stepped forward tentatively. Your foot made a quiet tapping sound as it connected to the stone floor. The mass of fur twitched slightly, but otherwise it didn't react. You slowly began edging forward, creeping along the opposite side of the wall. You were suddenly aware of every sound you made from the sharp breaths you took to the quiet shuffling of your clothing. You quietly stifled your breathing, holding in your breath until you managed to reach the dry branches. They shone a perfect gold in the dim light. _It's a treasure_ , you think to yourself. You glance at the mass of black behind you. It barely moved, barely breathed. You let out a sigh of relief as you collected the sticks, stuffing them carefully into your pockets. You gave yourself a small grin before edging back as quietly as possible. The bear let out a small grunt and rolled over, inches away from your feet. You froze in terror as one beady yellow eye opened, peeking through its thick limbs at you. It blinked before growling lowly.

You unfroze and ran for the exit, exploding out of the cave, barely hearing the scraping of long claws behind you. You scrambled onto the long, grey rocks, tiny pebbles falling behind you with each step. A loud growl erupted from below you as the bear climbed up the rocks, occasionally slipping because of its own weight. You, however, didn't have any real problem jumping from rock to rock. You simply stuffed the torn book and all the items inside one of your pockets and used your now free arms to successfully coordinate yourself through the obstacles.

After a while of trying to find a way to lose the bear, you found a large, round rock. A boulder. It was standing precariously over a long fall over the mouth of the cave. It was strange, really, but your gut told you that it was useful. You crawled behind it, barely managing to hand onto the steep roof. You could hear the ferocious snarl behind you as well as the nips landing on the back of your boots. You swallowed nervously before maneuvering yourself behind the boulder and found yourself face to muzzle with the beast.

It was large, tall, and, most importantly, furious. Its fangs were a stark white and its muzzle had long gray hairs. Its yellow eyes were slits, its black ears stapled to its skull. The bear raised its paw, but, before it could swipe, you heaved the boulder forward, straight into the bear.

You heard a loud crack resound through the air. Pops echoed as the boulder ran straight into the creature, squishing its skull and breaking its entire body. The bear rolled off of the roof of the cave and landed on the ground with a soft thump, staining the snow crimson. You clung onto roof, staring blankly at the crime scene below. You wanted to feel for the bear, you honestly did, but it had just attempted to kill you and, well...

You weren't exactly the most sympathetic person in the world.

You let go of the roof, sliding and falling into the snow. You barely blinked at the dead bear, instead choosing to follow the rolling boulder. It continued crushing all in its path until it stopped mere moments before colliding with the roots of the decaying log. You paced toward it and noticed that a mound of rocks had stopped the boulder in its tracks, creating a roofless cavern for you. You bit back a small smile. It was the perfect place to create a shelter.

You gripped all of your supplies, momentarily spotting some other useful fluff hiding in the roots of the tree. You created a small pile and started your work.

You first cleared the area of any snow. The mud underneath was wet, but it was still better than solid water. You momentarily cleaned some muck off of your gloves before placing the fluff and some tiny sticks in a pile. You gripped the flint and striker, twirling them between your fingers before scraping the flint against the striker. A small spark was driven out, but it didn't start the fire. You struck again and the spark caught onto the sticks, immediately eating the wood hungrily. You blew on the tiny embers until they roared and you placed some more sticks in the flames until it was a fire. You smiled in glee as heat finally reached you and you let out a content sigh, leaning against the bloody boulder.

* * *

As you slept on your comfy spot in the snow, you felt the hair on the back of your neck rise. You scratched your neck and rolled closer to your fire, breathing in the scent of burning wood. You sighed and snuggled deeper into your jacket, relishing in the warmth your light source provided.

Unbeknownst by you, you were being watched. A person gazed at you through a pair of binoculars, chuckling slightly.

"Hm, what a strange person. I never expected her to make it this far. She sort of reminds me of _him_..." The figure spat out the last word with obvious hatred, enough hatred to make the person next to him shudder. The figure shook his head, smirking to himself as he mentally chided his childish behavior.

"Ah well. She'll be dead soon."

* * *

 **Welp, that's the first chapter. They'll be five chapters in total, each describing the events that took place in Survival Island. I must say that I am rather fond of that island. Question is, are you? Review or PM this story, if you wish! Encouragement is always needed! :)**

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **Update: HOLY FREE HOLES, DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG THIS TOOK TO MAKE? I thought it would only take a week, but nooooo... IT TOOK THREE GOD DAMN MONTHS.**


	2. Resourceful

_You are resourceful._

With a loud yawn, you awoke.

You cracked open your eyes slowly, your vision hazily skipping about. The first thing you noticed was the bright sunlight beaming down onto your face. Cringing, you lifted your arms in an attempt to protect your eye sockets. Sunlight still managed to peek through, but it wasn't so painful now. After a few moments of blinking, your mind began to focus.

From what you could see, your fire had gone out. Mushy earth and burnt timber was all that remained from the once rushing fire. You sighed a bit in disappointment. You had hoped the fire would last through the night and keep you warm until the afternoon. Sure, it was an unrealistic expectation, but it was a hopeful one.

Grumbling under your breath, you sat up, dusting away the snow that had been perched on your tan jacket. Slush and ice nipped at the bare skin of your wrists, turning the brown into a swollen dark red. Your teeth began to chatter with minimal sound and you felt the urge to stand up and start moving again. It took you a while to get onto your feet, but when you did, you felt instant relief as your body warmed up.

Your eyes swept the area once more, intrigued to see the shadows that had plagued your vision the night before had vanished, leaving bright light in its place. The bright blue in the sky contrasted sharply with the dull colors that filled the ground. You smiled slightly at the sun in the sky, relieved to find out that while it was cold, it wasn't nearly as frigid as the night before. It was great to have such a wonderful heat source always radiating.

With a slight hum, you began gathering all of your supplies. It only took you a few moments to sweep all of your equipment into a small pile. You began counting them off one by one, tacking mental notes of each into your head.

Striker?

You picked it up and twisted the piece of metal around your gloved fingers. It glinted sharply in the soft sunlight, reflecting pure white back into your eyes. It was also slightly wet, but it was still reusable. You slipped it into your left pocket with ease.

Flint?

It was in shards, but it was in relatively good condition. Fires could still be made using them. You scooped up the bits and pieces and slowly poured the remaining pieces into your right pocket.

Axe handle?

This time, you gave a full-fledged grin. You swung the piece of polished wood hard and fast, relishing the punch that your weapon contained. You tucked it under your shoulder.

Book? Pages? Notes?

Those, unfortunately, did not make it.

Your grin immediately turned into a frown when all you saw were clumps of wet paper. The scrawls were wiped from the slush, the words mixed and mashed into a goopy, ineligible mess. The tips, the hints, the clues; they were all gone. All dumped into the drain. However, you had thankfully memorized each and every detail, storing them in a private section of your brain. You wanted to scowl more at the lost knowledge, but you forced yourself not to dawdle.

Your continued movement was more important than any scrap of paper would ever be.

At that thought, you began wandering around.

In the daylight, everything seemed completely different. The tall, shadowy trees that had swung menacingly at you before seemed harmless now. The wind, once harsh and dangerous, was now blowing softly, ruffling the pine needles above. The world was much more cheerful, hopeful, and you couldn't help but smile at the pleasant feelings that emerged from the sights.

After all, it had been a while since you've escaped to the mountains.

You sighed as you paced around, a white puff of breath escaping your lips. You weren't exactly sure what to do, nor where to go. When you were at the bear's cave, it was obvious that a cliff encompassed the entire area, from your back all the way to your side. To make things even more difficult, the smooth rock made it impossible to climb up.

However, on the only side that didn't offer a wall, there was a cliff edge, a more dangerous obstacle to get across. It made you shudder to think of what could happen if you fell. But, since you had no other options, you paced toward it with a dull heart.

You skipped across dead branches, mushy snow, and frozen rivers until you managed to get to the cliff side. The cliff proudly displayed the rest of the mountains without hesitation, allowing you to skim the area for any nearby sources. To your surprise, you spotted a gray rod in the center of the lush, green pines. You creeped forward, always keeping mind of the steep slope ahead of you. You squinted your eyes against the blaring sunlight and you could barely see the silver tower in the distance.

It was unnatural, the way it was structured. It was obviously not made by the nature that surrounded you. No, it looked carefully crafted, sculpted. Manmade. You leaned forward more, a smile skimming across your lips. The sight became clearer. The tower had a little crimson light at the top, blinking in an unsteady motion.

It was a _radio tower_.

It was a sign of civilization.

It was a sign of safety.

And, of course, as soon as you felt security drape over your shoulders, a gust of wind tussled you forward. Your boots, slick from icky slush and blunt chunks of ice and snow, slid easily off the edge, and your body soon followed after.

You fell, and you fell, and you fell. Wind tussled your hair once again and bit your eyes coldly. You saw a blur of black, blue, green...

 _Brown_.

The edge of the cliff was cluttered with large, spindly roots. They were dug deep into the rocks that lined the cliffs, withstanding the pressure of boulders on their thin frames. You couldn't think, couldn't breathe, but you stuck out your hands all the same, plunging them into the roots and rocks with all the force you could muster.

It must have been an act of pure instinct. It must have been.

If you had bothered to think, you would have known that such an action would have led to serious injury, and in a survival situation, the worst thing you could have done was receive injury. But you didn't think, didn't have enough time to. The wall of brown and gray was hurtling toward you at such a velocity that it would have killed you on impact. So, instinct drove you forward, your mind simply stating _survive_. As you haphazardly grabbed at the roots and vines, your fingers instantly snapped back and you spat out a scream as your sockets were instantly wrenched back.

Thankfully, you came to an eventual halt, but your entire upper torso was scratched and had sharp slivers of blood trickling all over. Your joints ached and your fingers were practically torn open, but you still clutched at the smooth rocks, at the rough roots, with all of the determination mustered inside of you. It took a while for your screeching mind to notice that you were dangling a mere few feet away from the bottom. Dashes of bright red could be seen splattered across the solid, silver rock face below. With a low groan, you untangled your shredded fingers from the vines, the sharp flecks of entangled rock stabbing into your poor flesh as one last reminder.

You fell unceremoniously onto the stone below.

You ignored the blood that would soon stain your precious tan jacket. No, instead you focused on the shreds of your fingers. Your gaze slipped haphazardly over them, your eyes blurring with tears. Bits and pieces of stone were imbedded deep into your bare flesh. You realized numbly that your gloves were gone. You tiredly curled your fingers together, your mind barely categorizing the winces of pain. The deep bruises and aches and scratches around your front slowly grew to be unimportant as you felt everything die down to a low whisper.

Then, nothing.

* * *

When you awoke, you were still in agony. Your shoulders ached, your fingers twitched, and your entire upper torso stung to some degree.

The only difference?

Well, you were being repaired.

By a raccoon.

You blinked hazily and wrinkled your nose in confusion.

 _What?_

"Uh... hello," you muttered in greeting, watching as the little animal chattered and tore off tiny strips of cloth from a red material. Its gray ears perked up and its solid ebony eyes skimmed over you. It let out another chatter and it waved its tail in... greeting? Before you even had time to ponder this, it once again began to work on stripping the cloth to bits. The raccoon's paws worked with disturbing carefulness and accuracy as even bits of material were stacked neatly into a pile.

Without thinking, you reached forward and mumbled," 'Ey, stop that." The animal didn't pay any heed to your command. Instead, it swept its bushy tail out to block you from reaching it. You let out a huff out of mild annoyance and pain.

You _were_ always terrible with animals.

Without warning, the raccoon crept toward you with the crimson pieces in its mouth, gazing intently at you. You glared at it half-heartedly, your face screwing up as another wave of intense pain filled you. The animal took notice and flicked its ears toward you, letting a mewl slip through its teeth.

"What do you _want_?" You groaned, unable to understand its intention. "You already have my damn... bandana?" _Oh, come on._ You whined inside your head. _When will I get another one of those?_ "The hades can I give you?"

The raccoon hesitantly stepped forward and placed the strips of cloth on the floor next to you. You lifted an eyebrow.

"You're giving them back to me," you stated in a deadpan voice. The animal seemed to wag its tail in agreement, barking at you. You stared at the creature before sighing. Tilting your head toward the bundle, you had a vague impression of what you could use it for. _Bandages, of course,_ you thought dryly as you glanced at your cut hands. A trickle of blood still oozed from one or two wounds, but it wasn't serious enough for you to get majorly concerned about.

No, what you were concerned about was the inflammation surrounding your wounds.

Globs of pus stuck to the cracks of your sores, bright yellow surrounded by a sea of brown and crimson. The edges of your wounds were puffed out and hot to the touch. You winced at the pain radiating off of them and slowly began to pick off small shards of rock and root, tiny agonized gasps escaping your breath.

You kept your gaze locked on your wounds for a long time. You never dared to stray your eyes away from the task at hand. The raccoon blinked curiously as you worked, watching you wrap a bandage around one palm, the blood and pus already splotching the bright crimson. You kept on pulling pieces of fabric together into tight bandages until both of your palms were covered in the shredded fabric.

Only when you were finished did you glance up at the raccoon. It chittered at you happily, nuzzling at your arm. You couldn't help but give it a tired smile. Your bandaged hands reached out to stroke him and, surprisingly, you managed to do so without feeling any pain.

However, you did find something. A bump was aligned around its neck. Feeling at it with two fingers, you realized that it was a collar. A small, small tag dangled from under its neck and you picked at it, the metal cool against your skin. You raised it slightly and squinted, barely being able to register the word on it.

 _Chester_

"Hm, that your name, boy?" You asked the animal. "Chester?" The raccoon hummed, wagging its tail. You gave it a grin and messed with its fur. The animal chattered.

After a few quiet moments of peace, you decided that it was time to move. Injured or not, you had slept some of the day away, and night was looming over your form. It would be dark, the lethal cold would return, and hungry beasts would begin roaming.

So, with a sigh, you stood up.

You actually managed to stand up at the first try. Sure, your back and shoulders still sent sharp bolts of pain, but the agony was beginning to dissipate into a dull roar. Your hands, now bandaged and somewhat clean, didn't exactly hurt whenever you wiggled them around. And, best of all, your legs were almost completely uninjured.

You staggered forward, glancing between the ground and the thin, gray rod in the sky. Like a beacon, it called to you, promised you your freedom, happiness, food...

Your stomach growled loudly just as you started to pace forward. You glared at your offending organ angrily. _Now is not the time_ , you thought. Rolling your eyes, you walked past several rocks and dead branches. Chester followed you diligently, waving its bushy tail back and forth.

You came upon many obstacles. You had to climb down several other small cliffs, injuring yourself even further. You had torn some of your bandages by hanging off the steep cliffs, but it wasn't much to worry about. You could even say that the pain was starting to dull down a bit, though you didn't know exactly why. You assumed that it was because of the declining temperature mixed with your growing tolerance to suffering.

There were several drops from your journey toward the metal tower. There was a dam, chock full of nasty beavers. You had managed to get past them by balancing on the fallen logs and avoiding their strong tails and sharp teeth. Large rocks and thick roots often littered your path, forcing you to either climb over them or be ensnared by prickling thorns. Through all of the physical torture, you had only managed to get halfway toward your destination by sunset.

By then, night was coming. You could smell it in the way the wind battered against your body. You could see the bright blue of the sky begin to dull into oranges and pinks and violets. It wouldn't take long for night to capture the both of you.

You shivered and hugged your jacket closer to your body, studying the clouds. Licking your lips, your eyes flickered from the thin, silver rod to the disappearing sun.

The tower was still too far away for you to make it in time. If you went any further, the darkness would be overwhelming, especially from the sheer amount of trees blocking the moonlight. Up on the tallest cliff, the trees had been thin, light, and barely stopped the light from peeking through. However, now that you were on the ground, the trees were thicker and had a much more persistent grip on dead leaves.

You had no choice but to stop and rest.

You sighed and hunched down between two thick trees, flicking out all of the supplies you needed to make a fire. You used the bandages on your palms to help you wipe away clumps of snow and sleet from the ground. After slipping out some more supplies and promptly placing a spark on them, a fire was formed and soon grew large enough to support you and your new friend. You sat down on a nearby log.

As night descended, your fire kept on flickering and both you and your new companion were kept warm. You found a new sense of relief in seeing the dancing flames, so you kept watch on it, feeding and preening the fire if it shrunk.

 _Heh. I might become a pyromaniac if this keeps up_ , you mused.

Suddenly, a growl was emitted. You jumped lightly and glanced around, your hand automatically reaching for your axe handle. Your hand bit into the cold air. Nothing was there.

 _Oh crap. I forgot the handle!_

You curled your hands into tight fists, wincing as your wounds shifted slightly under the pressure. "Hey, get out here! Don't hide in the woods, you coward!"

A growl answered your demands.

Your fists loosened and your posture sagged as you recognized where the sound came from.

It was from your stomach.

Of course.

You groaned and sat back down on your log, lightly pressing the palm of your hand against your face. You were hungry. Yeah. That was it. After travelling across an obstacle course, outrunning a bear, scaling trees, climbing cliffs, surviving falls, and starving for a week, _of course_ you were hungry.

You slid your fingers down your face until you were merely peeking through them. You tried to gaze sourly at the fire, but was instead met by the concerned eyes of the raccoon. Chester cooed at you, twitching its fingers. You rolled your eyes at the animal.

"Don' mind me," you mumbled to it. "Just hungry, 's all."

The animal pricked its ears up, gazing you intently for a second before scurrying off to who-knows-where. You sighed, but didn't complain. You simply waited patiently for day to return, not expecting the raccoon to come back.

However, the raccoon did come back. When it returned, a large, brown fish was in its jaws, still slick from capture. Chester wagged its tail happily at you, handing a salmon over to you. You blinked slowly at it before giving it a grin and ruffled its ears. Waves of positive emotions toward the small creature flowed from you as you began to set up the fish for roasting.

 _Heh. I have a living food dispenser._

* * *

As you munched hungrily on your cooked salmon, you, of course, did not notice a camera lens zooming in from afar. The lens captured your happy, greedy expression with upmost clarity. The camera was of high quality, after all.

The figure behind the device frowned, tapping his fingers impatiently upon his wooden desk. He had expected the girl to reach the metal tower by the end of the day, not become injured, slow down, and eat. It delayed his grand scheme, his true pleasure, and it irritated him beyond belief. The man next to him shook his head.

"Dear sir, please refrain from being impatient. She will get there eventually," he spoke lowly, his raspy voice barely being heard by his companion.

"I know!" the other man snapped. "It's just that she isn't moving fast enough!" The older man regarded his companion lightly, with caution.

"I thought you loved to stalk your prey, sir," the man stated slowly. The younger paused before nodding briefly.

"I do, I do," he stated idly, pondering. "She just reminds me of _him_ too much for my tastes. She's reckless, she's determined..." The younger man paused once again, shaking his head slowly.

"I'll have to end my hunt soon. It's getting too risky." The man standing next to him gave him a brief, slight sight of a smile.

"I have to agree, sir. I have to agree."

* * *

 _I... finished the second episode, I guess. It's not as long as the previous chapter, but the second episode wasn't that long either._

 _I changed a lot in this chapter. In the original, there was no raccoon and you had to feed yourself. However..._

 _Meh. I found it a bit too boring. So I changed it up and tweaked the story._

 _Wonderful, am I right?_

 _Anyway, thank you for reading. Please review and tell me of what you think._


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